a spreading of wings, a bating of breath, a sense of something coming

Incomplete Flash One

A silvery shine laid on the water in the bay — a reflection of the mostly hidden and silent sun. Pale, dew-soaked fingers covered a night worn face as Pigeon breathed out a mouthful of fog. It had been a rather wearisome, tiring night. Two deaths and an unexpected legal fight were all the reality, all the civilization Pigeon could hangle at the moment.

The secret cliffside — alright: just not frequently visited — was always the perfect spot to let those ills tumble into the midly lapping waves below. Those waves could just as peacefully swallow Pigeon up, and for the first time it seems just a little too tempting to disappear — just like that, just like the sun on this godforsaken day.

The letter from Marshall’s lawyer hadn’t really been a surprise, but the so-soon court date had been — the expectation of a few weeks of aruging over a fair settlement had been quite throroughly quashed. Add to that Magpie’s sudden, way-too-soon, upside down labor, and who wouldn’t be debating drowning in the bay just for a minute, a moment, a brief half-second of respite? Maybe Pigeon could meld with that silver sheen and be scattered about the world in refracted light.

“Pigeon?” came the reason why not in the form of a slightly shaking voice. “Are you having coffee before you…” coming up short.

Pigeon turned, trying not to show too much of the inner existential turmoil.

“I made a pot,” and there was innocent little idealistic Fable with the steaming pot in hand.

“You…followed me out here with a pot of coffee?”

“Yeah,” and it sounded just as weak, just as obvious as it was.

Pigeon had never managed to gracefully, carefully, nicely, but most importantly, successfully convince Fable that all their sweet attempts hadn’t gotten Pigeon any closer to falling in love with them, and it was inconceivable that they might. “Not the time,” Pigeon coughed ungracefully and unforgiving.

“Oh, it’s that Guatamalen one you said you really liked that other time, so I thought that could help like…” they trailed off.

Pigeon moved without another word, passed Fable, back toward the Mickey Mouse House where everyone had, until last night, lived altogether.